Sex Addict
by psuliem
Summary: Kenny McCormick can't help himself. Sex is the only thing he's good at. Non Con. No graphic details. One-shot.


**Sex Addict**

Plot: Kenny McCormick can't help himself. Sex is the only thing he is good at.

Rated: T (Violence, mentions of rape, sexual situations (No graphic details), and alcohol)

Pairing: (Not really anything, but there's a few things that could be considered pairings.)

Craig/Kenny, Kenny/Butters, Kenny/Kyle/Stan, Kenny/NorthPark Girl

**I do not own South Park.**

Enjoy.

* * *

"Kenny, do you know why you're here?"

"...No."

"Let me ask you a few things, then."

* * *

"God damn... You're so fucking hot." My voice was low, heavy and breathy.

"Yes, talk dirty to me." She cried below my ear.

So I did. "Your boobs are huge... And soft... Ngh... Oh, you so sound so fucking sexy. Moan for me." She didn't make much noise, so I decided to up my game. "Moan." I growled it and slammed against her. That brought out her inner demon.

"Aaaaaaahn!" Her voice was whiny and lustful.

"Fuck..."

* * *

I pulled on dark brown gloves, my fingers wiggling into place.

My arms slipped into a bright, hazard orange orange jacket.

To cover my messy, soft locks of blonde hair I pulled the hood of said jacket over my head, then zipped it up to mid chest.

My piercing blue eyes traveled up the length of the cracked mirror I stood in front of while I examined myself.

"Yeah. Looking sexy."

A smirk crossed my face for a moment.

"Kenny...?" A soft feminine voice broke through my delight.

Fuck. She didn't leave.

"What is it?" I groan out, not wanting her to stay. She was a random virgin from North Park. Well, ex-virgin now. I smirk again.

(They are all virgins up there, but that's beside the point. The point here is that she needs to go.)

"I'm hungry..." She whined at me. God. She was so annoying.

"Then get the fuck out and go home to eat."

* * *

"Do you remember what you did to that girl?"

"Which one?"

Silence.

"All of them."

"Oh."

"What did you do to them after you had sex with them?"

"I kicked them out and found another one."

* * *

"He wouldn't rape you though, Kyle. He'd suffocate you under his fat." I laugh at my own joke, patting the Jew's shoulder. "I'm sorry he pushed you in the snow, baby. It'll all be okay." I pucker my lips and make a kissy noise at Kyle, nuzzling his cheek.

Kyle and Stan both laughed, the ginger putting a hand to my kissy face. "Are you going to kiss it and make it better?" He laughed again pushing against my smooth, sexy lips.

"Obviously." I grinned evilly and leaned in closer. "I make it better every day, baby, for everyone," I hugged Kyle's waist. My voice was mumbled from behind his hand. "Come on, don't be like this, girl." I glanced at Stan. "You gotta help me here, Stanley. Our baby is so upset from being shoved in the snow by that fatass. He needs our warmth." Of course, I wiggled my eye brows, grinning even wider.

Stan was laughing at us, which, honestly, was probably hilarious.  
Kyle dropped his hand after that, turning away from me in mock disgust. "I don't think anything can make me feel better after feeling the cold cold snow."

Stan came up behind the car seat and wrapped his muscular arms around it and Kyle.

Oh yeah. I'm definitely getting some tonight... Again.

"I don't know about that, Kyle." I chuckled lowly, moving in closer to his neck and giving Stan a look and a smirk. "I can't make you warm, I'm sure." My hot breath cascaded over the red head's neck, arms tightening around his slim waist as I moved till my lips almost touched his milky skin. "But, me and Stan can make you really warm."

Stan smirked back in my direction, getting closer to the ginger. "Come on, it'll be like a bit of revenge. Cartman doesn't get any and you get rewarded for his dickiness."

"Guys, we're still standing in front of Cartman's house. At least take a lady home." Kyle laughed nervously.

It was a cute laugh.

I decided to moan lowly below his ear and drag my tongue down that pale neck with expertise as my subconscious slid one of my hands down Kyle's chest to his thigh. My fingers traveled between those slim legs, massaging his inner thigh.

I know where to touch everyone.

He shuddered when I did this and leaned his head away. "Ngh... Seriously...not here Kenny."

"Oh hush, Kyle, my baby. Stan come here." I pulled his face close and kissed him deeply, tongue pummeling his mouth for a moment before I leaned Kyle's chair back just a bit a told Stan to get between Kyle's back and the chair. I move to be between the red head's legs, getting him situated in Stan's lap. "Mh. You both are adorable." With pleasure, I pressed closer, kissing Stan again and pushing a hand along Kyle's arm. Stan tasted like booze and pizza.

Stan went along with me and kissed back, moving to be behind Kyle and once again moving his lips in the kiss along with mine. When I pulled back I pressed kisses onto Kyle's neck, listening to him trying to get us to stop.

Stan was drunk off his ass.

I wasn't.

* * *

"And you don't just like girls, is that correct?"

"Yeah. I love everyone. Even you. You've got a nice ass. I'd fuck you."

"So, sexual harassment aside, you enjoyed having sexual intercourse with two of your best friends even though one of them was drunk and you were raping the other?"

"Yeah. Who wouldn't like that?"

"Most of the world's population."

"Whatever. All that matters is that I liked it."

* * *

"Oh god..." Right then, I was shoved against an alley wall getting brutally raped by Craig Tucker.

It was vicious.

Blood dripped down my thighs, scratches and bruises scattered my body, but fuck, it felt good.

He did it with such passion, such malice, that I could help but submit to him. I did so easily.

Craig had walked up, dragged me off and practically ripped off my pants.

I hadn't said a word.

* * *

"And when YOU got raped, how did you feel?"

"Wonderful. He was really rough. It was sexy."

"Rape is a very awful, degrading thing."

"...Not really."

* * *

"Mr. McCormick, we need to keep him in observation for awhile. He's not safe to go out into the public."

* * *

"Do you hear that?" I muttered softly, caressing Butters' cheek and holding him tightly.

"No... What is it?"

At first, nothing was said until I smacked the blonde roughly, knocking him to the floor. "It's the sound of me fucking you." Quickly, my body pinned him.

This'd be so easy.

* * *

"Have you ever loved anyone?"

"No, I haven't. Why would I need that?"

"Everyone needs love..."

"Not me."

The psychiatrist narrowed her eyes, watching me. "You have a problem. You know that, right?"

I glared into her. "Actually, I wouldn't fuck you. You have an ugly face."

"Just answer my question, Kenny McCormick. Do you know you have a problem?"

I knew I must have looked pissed, because my face was all scrunched up and I could feel the vein in my head throbbing. "I don't have a problem." My teeth were grit tightly, hands clutching at the couch. "So, shut the fuck up."

"Please calm down. You need to accept it. No one should be like this. It is unhealthy. I'm not saying you're unhealthy, I'm saying your ADDICTION is unhealthy."

"My addiction? What addiction?"

She continued, "Your sex addiction. It is what you were arrested for. You raped two people, were raped yourself, molested, and tried to sell yourself into prostitution. You need to admit to yourself that you have a problem or I can't help you."

I stared at her. 'I did all of that? No...' My head started moving back and forth, denying it. "No... I didn't. I couldn't..."

"But you did." Her voice was soft now, obviously trying to comfort me; though what she was saying wasn't helping at all.

"I... No... That's not..." I swallowed thickly, staring at her. Everything hurt. I wasn't a sex addict, how dare she call me that? I may die all the time, but that doesn't mean I'm addicted to death... I don't love it, but... I love sex. A lot.

"Kenny... Please. I can help you. Don't you miss being close to people..?"

I felt her hand rest on my shoulder before I bit my lower lip. My voice was quiet, "You can... help me?"

She nodded and I leaned into her, hugging her tightly. A sob wracked my chest.

Okay, so maybe I knew I had a problem for awhile. I've just been in denial and it's hard to control. I was scared to ask for help. Scared to turn myself in and get judged for what I've done. Now, I have nothing to lose. They caught me, so why suffer when she's sitting here giving me the ability to stop this insanity.

So I did.

They committed me to a mental institute instead of jail for reason of mental illness. So, basically, they all knew my head was fucked up.

I stayed there for 5 years, getting better, not having ANY sex after the first two weeks.

Now, they tell me I can get out soon. They say that if I can take care of a pet at home for a year and not kill it, I can have healthy relationships again. No sex yet.

No one night stands either. Which kinda sucks, I guess, but I don't need it anymore.

That's great to admit.

I don't need sex anymore.

I say it aloud to myself.

It feels good. I feel new.

"What was that?" It was my counselor, the same one from my first visit.

"I don't need sex anymore." I repeat it for her and she smiles like nothing I've ever seen. Like she knows she's done a good job with me.

The woman, Jenny P. Moorhous, stands up and walks over to me.

I stand up, too, because it'd be awkward if I was sitting down like that with her stomach in my face.

Jenny hugs me tightly and my eyes go wide. I didn't get much physical contact in here. Being a rapist can do that.

I hug her back though. I hug her and forget about my problems. She's been like a mother to me. Since my actual mother died almost ten years ago, I've never felt so safe in someone's arms. Let's admit that I wasn't to safe in my mother's arms either.

My parents were my downfall. My life was my downfall. How poor I was, was my downfall. And I fell deeper than the pits of hell I used to go to everyday, but I got dragged back up, because I didn't give up hope. Because I said to myself every morning before these people in here helped me, that this sucks. I never felt guilty though, but now I do.

I can fix that though. I can fix it all. Because I remember those girls now. I remember what I did to Kyle, Butters. What Craig did to me and what I let him do. I remember and I can fix it, because I'm free of that curse.

Because I don't need sex anymore. I need love.

* * *

**A/N: Wow what a cheesy story.**  
**I forgot about this. I wrote it awhile back, but never did anything with it. So here it is.**  
**Review?**  
**Thanks for reading!**


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